


Where Blood Runs Deep

by lavender_love00



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavender_love00/pseuds/lavender_love00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a prompt: You open to plot bunnies?  Because I think your take on the idea of Cooper as Matt Bomer as Felix in the Normal Heart and Blaine/Kurt/Burt's reactions to like Cooper losing the weight, and the movie itself could be amazingggggg</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Blood Runs Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to briarswt on tumblr for the prompt, and to judearaya for holding my hand through this whole thing, and for encouraging me to post for the first time in eight months :)

Blaine's in class when his phone starts to buzz in his pocket _again_ , the third time in an hour. It makes him nervous – what if something's happened? – but he doesn't dare answer until after he's dismissed. His history of theater instructor, while not Cassandra July, doesn't tolerate interruptions. He surreptitiously cancels the call, hopes it doesn't ring again.

 

It does, of course, as things always do when you hope they don't, and he sighs. Five minutes left before class is over, and he's sitting in the back, so he sneaks out, willing the instructor not to notice or care.

 

Four missed calls, all from Cooper, and a ball forms in his stomach as he calls back and wonders if it's his mom or his dad who's in the hospital, who's passed away suddenly.

 

It turns out that it's not his parents' demise Cooper's calling about, but a part.

 

"You pulled me out of class over a _role,_ Coop? I mean, I know it's exciting, but this professor might actually –"

 

"Wait, you left class?"

 

"You called me _four times_!"

 

"Oh. Did I?"

 

" _Cooper_ –"

 

"Okay, okay, I'm excited though! It's – Blaine, this is kind of huge, actually."

 

His voice is different this time, unlike when he'd told Blaine about his many commercial roles, arrogant and heady, unlike even his recurring guest role on his TV show, ecstatic beyond belief. This time Blaine can hear a bit of awe when he speaks.

 

"Wait," he says, a smile creeping over his face. "Wait, Coop – did Michael Bay finally call you back? Are – is he making another Transformers movie? Are you _in it_?"

 

"Alas, sadly no – but, I am _honored_ that you would think that, baby brother."

 

"So what's the part then?"

 

The phone goes silent. Then, "Blaine? Have you ever heard of The Normal Heart?"

 

* * *

 

"So, wait," Kurt says, hiding in the corner of the bathroom, desperately hoping the owner of Spotlight doesn't come in and bust him. Unlikely, since it's the women's bathroom he chose, but one never knows … "You're telling me that, one, they're making a film adaptation of The Normal Heart, and two, _your brother_ is playing _Felix_ in it? What about his TV show?"

 

Santana pokes her head in the bathroom, hisses at him to come out, that he has tables waiting.

 

"He quit. They're writing him out," Blaine says, still sounding a bit shell-shocked. "I – it was the most … _real_ conversation I've ever had with him. I'm not sure –"

 

"I'm so sorry, honey," Kurt interrupts, scowling. Santana's hissing again, and while she can certainly act like a demonic harpy sometimes, he's pretty sure she wouldn't _actually_ let him get fired. "Can you tell me about it when I get home? We're just really busy today."

"Of course, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you at work."

 

"Blaine." Kurt molds his voice into very firm honey, sweet but stern at the same time. "You can call me anytime you need to. You know that. This is – well, there are a lot of things this is, and I would love to discuss them at length, but I have tables waiting."

 

"Always bills to pay …" Blaine says. "And I've got to go get this paper written anyway. But – _crazy_ , right?"

 

"It's going to be so weird," Kurt agrees, rolling his eyes at Santana when she flips him off and slams the bathroom door behind her.

 

* * *

 

"I still can't believe they're making it into a film."

 

They're lying in bed, their privacy curtain pulled, trying to ignore Rachel softly singing scales, and Sam's motorboat snoring. Blaine's laptop is open, its light illuminating the last page of the play that he can't quite bring himself to close.

 

"I still can't believe my _brother's_ in it."

 

Kurt shifts and Blaine pulls him closer, tucking him into his side.

 

"Have I ever told you I read that play in 8th grade?"

 

Blaine cranes his neck. "At Lima Middle? _Seriously_?"

 

"Not _at_ school, you goof, on my own. After a sex ed talk where they mentioned AIDS. I was thirteen."

 

" _Jesus_ , Kurt –"

 

"Yeah, maybe it wasn't quite age-appropriate. I was terrified. Of who I was, that people would find out, what could happen to me if they did or even if they didn't, just … everything, really."

 

It's like a whole new set of scales falls off Blaine's eyes as he looks at Kurt. "So, the touch of the fingertips thing …"

 

Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. May have contributed. I was so fucked up in my own head at that point, it was probably a little bit of everything, that included."

 

The only thing Blaine knows to do is kiss him, so he does, then scoots down to nuzzle his nose into Kurt's neck.

 

"I just hope Cooper can do it justice," Kurt sighs, rubbing his hand over Blaine's back. "Not to speak badly of your brother, but –"

 

"I understand," Blaine murmurs into his hair. "But for some reason, and I have _no idea_ why, I trust him."

 

"And I trust you."

 

* * *

 

A week later, Cooper's in town for meetings and takes them out to lunch at some trendy, ludicrously expensive vegan place that he found on the Internet and that neither Blaine nor Kurt have ever heard of.

 

"You really didn't have to go to all this trouble," Kurt says, his eyes flitting around the room, reminding Blaine of a particularly darling hummingbird.

 

"I wanted to, though," Cooper says, smiling, and he can't help it, it still pisses Blaine off just the _slightest_ bit that his brother can make a tiny bit of heat rise in his fiancée's cheeks.

 

He clears his throat, trying to break Cooper's spell. "Well, I'll speak for both of us, Coop – we're really glad you're here. And that you're doing this project."

 

Cooper nods, his face morphing into an expression Blaine's never seen on him before. It takes him a moment to even register what it is, and what it _is_ is _somber_. "I wanted to talk to you about it. To both of you."

 

Suddenly Blaine's wary, wants a glass of wine in a way he's never wanted wine before, and he nods slowly. "Okay."

 

"I want you to know that I take this role seriously. _Very_ seriously. And that I don't take for granted the impact it will have on people."

 

Blaine feels Kurt's fingers slip through his under the table, and he grasps back tightly.

 

"From the minute my agent sent the script, I knew I had to get the part. I knew it. For you. Both of you. Blaine – I was an unintentional ass for the entirety of your childhood. I was arrogant and bossy and basically vanished by the time you needed me, and –"

 

"You know you don't have to play a guy with AIDS in a movie to apologize for that, right?" Blaine says softly, looking down at his weird, raw Portobello burger, half-eaten on his plate. Kurt squeezes his hand again.

 

"Of course. I just – I don't want to be like Ned's brother, you know?"

 

" _Coop_ –"

 

"But it's not just that," he interrupts. "This is –" He sighs, pauses. "Blaine, I want you to know, and Kurt, you too, that I understand the gravity of what I'm doing here. I did my research, I presented my case, I talked to all the right people before I ever auditioned – that's the only way I figure I ever got the part. There were so many people with more experience than me, better actors. I guess I'm trying to say … the role comes with a lot of weight. I'll try to carry it with as much grace as I can."

 

"Thank you," Kurt says quietly, and it's answer enough for both of them.

 

* * *

 

"Thing I just thought about," Kurt calls from the kitchen.

 

"What's that?" Blaine calls back, never taking his eyes off the screen lest he be bested at Mario Kart by Sam, which cannot happen.

 

"Your brother is going to have love scenes with Mark Ruffalo."

 

Blaine drives his bike off Rainbow Road.

 

"Thank you _Kurt_!" Sam cries happily as he blazes over the finish line, winning the race.

 

"And we are going to not only have to watch it _together_ , but with _him_ ," Kurt continues.

 

"Stop talking now," Blaine calls back, his cheeks burning bright red. This project of his brother's might ruin him in more ways than he's thought about.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks into filming, Cooper calls Blaine in tears.

 

"Squirt," he says, and his sniffles make the irritating nickname more okay somehow, "I'm so sorry."

 

"Coop, what are you sorry for?" Blaine asks, stroking Kurt's hair because apparently his fingers want to comfort _someone_. Kurt sighs happily and nuzzles into his touch.

 

"It's just – it's _awful_ , what people did, how they _ignored_ you, let you _die_ , how they _still_ treat you, goddammit –"

 

"Hey," Blaine says as gently as he can. "Not _me._ I never had to live through that stuff. You know that, right? That world isn't Kurt's and my world. I mean, we can get _married_ now. Things are better."

 

"I know. It's just heavy. Heavier than I realized," Cooper sighs. "You know, I have to get inside his head. I have some friends who are putting the pressure on, I have to be _perfect_ because I'm straight, they tell me, like I have to prove something. But you're the only person I care about proving anything to, baby bro."

 

Blaine smiles, grateful for a thousand reasons that Cooper's doing this. "Well you know the only way you're going to prove anything to me, right?"

 

"What's that?"

 

"You have to _point_ a lot. Are you _pointing_ , Coop?"

 

His brother's surprised laughter registers in Blaine's ear and he smiles wider.

 

"And maybe you can try _shouting all your lines_ if you really want to make an impact. And don't forget to ignore Mark Ruffalo completely, although to be entirely honest, how anyone could ignore that man I would never know –"

 

"Hey!" Kurt says, pulling his head out from under Blaine's hand. "I'm right here!"

 

Cooper laughs harder. "I knew you were the right person to call, Squirt. Thank you."

 

"Anytime, Coop." A beat. "Love you."

 

He can hear the smile in Cooper's voice. "I love you, too, Blaine."

 

* * *

 

"Oh my god," Kurt's shouting, throwing clothes, making an absolute disaster of their makeshift closet. "Oh my god, oh my god, we are going to be _late_ to _brunch_ with _Mark Fucking Ruffalo_ because my _fucking_ scarf has a _fucking_ stain on it, oh my _god_ Rachel Berry did you _borrow it_ _and murder it_?"

 

The privacy curtain is flung back by Rachel in pajamas and at least Blaine's finished tucking himself into his briefs.

 

"One – you are _gloating_ , stop _gloating_ , it's not _fair_ ," she says. "Two – your scarves are _not_ my style and you should know that by now, Kurt. Three – you could wear a paper _bag_ and look fabulous, both of you, _I hate you all_." She yanks the curtain shut again, stomps off.

 

" _Oh my god will you all shut up_?" Sam thunders from the couch. "It's fucking _Sunday_ and some of us are _sleeping_!"

 

* * *

 

"So," Blaine says, a wicked grin threatening to spill over into his cheeks, "how was it?" He takes a sip of his coffee, waits patiently.

 

"How was what?"

 

Blaine rolls his eyes. "You know," he says, looking around, then leaning in close, " _the sex_."

 

Cooper looks momentarily confused.

 

"In your _movie_ ," Blaine said pointedly.

 

"We are not talking about that," Cooper says, his head shaking back and forth. "Too weird. I'm not discussing my gay sex scene with my gay kid brother."

 

"But I could give you pointers!"

 

"Okay, one? I need no pointers, sex is sex and I'm amazing at it," Cooper says. "Two? So wrong on _so_ many levels, oh my _god_ –"

 

"Well was he good, at least? Mark?"

 

Cooper's eyes close, then _he's_ the one leaning in. "You know it's _acting_ , right?" he hisses. "It's not _porn_ , Squirt, we didn't _actually_ do the deed."

 

Blaine shrugs. "I just figured, there's friction, there's probably rubbing, you're in Felix's head … the least you could do is pop a boner. I bet you hurt Mark's feelings."

 

"I did not – _god,_ this is weird," Cooper says, putting his face in his hands. "There was – _fine_ , it was _intense_ , okay, and maybe I did –" He stops, looks up, meets Blaine's eyes. "Wait." Blaine's about to explode, trying to hold the torrent of giggles in. "You're totally fucking with me, aren't you?"

 

Laughter bubbles up out of his throat, spilling out into the air as he nods. "Payback. God, you should see how red your face got …"

 

"Asshole," Cooper says, but he's grinning.

 

"Coop," Blaine says, giddy with the brotherly rapport he's never had before, "let's remember, I'm gay as _shit_. Asshole? Not exactly an insult, to me."

 

For a split second, Cooper's face reads total shock, then he's letting out a snort. "God, you're fun like this, all grown up," he laughs. "When did that happen?"

 

Blaine, suddenly shy, shrugs his shoulders, stares down at his coffee cup.

 

* * *

 

"He's good for you, you know," Kurt says, looking up from his homework on the couch as Blaine's wiping down the stovetop, humming happily to himself.

 

"Who's good for me?"

 

"Cooper. Being here. You seem happier. Or – maybe not even happier, maybe just _lighter_ than I've seen you in a long time."

 

Blaine smiles. "It's nice having family around."

 

"Also having family who supports you?" Kurt guesses.

 

Blaine goes to the sink to wash the rag out, smiles to himself. "When I was little, I always imagined that Coop and I would be best friends when we grew up. Then he moved out when I was eight, and his head blew up like a big balloon, and I stopped hoping." He looks up at Kurt. "I came to terms with the fact that my family wasn't ever going to look like other people's families. It still isn't. But Cooper, and this film …"

 

"The hope is back?"

 

"The hope might be."

 

* * *

 

"Wait, you're doing what?" Blaine asks into the phone, pulling another cronut from the box, trying not to get crumbs on his notes. He's got two midterms and a vocal performance coming up, and he's cramming. Both his head and his face, apparently.

 

"Um – I haven't really talked to you about it, because I didn't want you to worry," Cooper says. "But we're taking a break for three months. So I can lose weight."

 

Blaine freezes with the cronut halfway to his mouth. "You? _Lose_ weight? Coop, you're already like a stick. You and Kurt, god, it's _infuriating,_ I don't know _how_ you missed out on the Anderson ass –"

 

"I have to look sick, Blaine."

 

"You – oh." Suddenly Blaine's not very hungry for cronuts anymore. "You have to look like an end-stage AIDS patient."

 

"Yeah."

 

He puts his pen down. "Um. Okay," he says, squirming. "What's your plan?"

 

"I've been consulting with a doctor from the beginning," Cooper tells him. "The first month I think will be more of a vegan diet, just to start. The last two months – I mean, Blaine, it has to look real."

 

"So, calorie restriction," Blaine says, closing his eyes. He feels a little sick – he hadn't thought about Cooper having to become waif-like for the film. He's grown closer to his brother the last six weeks than he's ever been, and it's surprising, how much this bothers him.

 

"…Yeah. I'm going home, vegan's easier in California, and the last couple weeks, there's this spa out there that they're sending me to – they do colonics and cleanses and shit."

 

Blaine looks down, plays with the hem of his shirt. "Coop, is this safe?"

 

"I mean … They aren't going to let me _die_ , I have to still be in the movie."

 

Suddenly he's mad, doesn’t really even know why. "Dammit, Cooper, this part isn't worth your _health_."

 

"Blaine, chill out. They're going to monitor my blood levels and everything, and it's temporary, it's just – this is important. I get to finish this and go back to eating anything I want. The guys in the play, in the film, in real _life_? They didn't get that privilege."

 

Blaine sighs. "Do Mom and Dad know? Actually – I've never even asked, what do they think about you being in this at all?"

 

"I've never told them," Cooper confesses. "I was honestly afraid of what I'd do to Dad if he made some idiotic comment, especially if it was about you, so – I just didn't go there. We don't talk that much anyway. They'll probably just find out from somebody back home."

 

The rage is back. "Since when do you _care_ so much? Since when is this _your_ fight? It sure as hell wasn't your fight when I was getting beat up at school dances!"

 

Cooper's quiet for a moment, and Blaine feels entirely stupid and a little guilty, but still mad.

 

"It should've been," he says eventually. "I should've come home for that. I should've called Dad out on more of his shit, I –"

 

"You know what? Just – let's forget it," Blaine says, backtracking frantically. Cooper feels like the only ally in his family, a _true_ ally, and if what he just said changes that –

 

"No, you've needed to call me out on that for a long time," Cooper says. "You're right. But this – I know, going into it, I said I was doing it for you, and I still am, and for Kurt, but the deeper I get – Blaine, there was an entire community of men who were ignored and left to _die_ and _nobody_ cared. At this point, it's about justice, it's about telling their story to a generation who's forgotten about them. To people who never _knew_ about them."

 

And now there are tears in his eyes. "I know. I _know_ , and so does Kurt, god, Kurt knows _everything_ , and I'm sorry I'm an emotional basket case today, but –"

 

Cooper laughs. "You're talking to a man who's cried on set just about every day of filming. We'll just be emotional basket cases together."

 

"Okay." He takes a breath. "Okay. I'll just miss you. And I don't want to lose you to something _stupid_ like _starvation_ , not after the last six weeks …"

 

"I'll be careful. I'll listen to my doctors, I promise."

 

"Okay." And suddenly Blaine has a thought that makes this all a little better. "Coop? Oh my god, I seriously want Dad to see this."

 

"Yeah? Why?"

 

"Because I want all those years of 'why can't you be more like your brother?' to come and bite him in the ass. Didn't you say that Felix is a bottom?"

 

Cooper takes a moment to let that sink in, then lets out a delighted little cackle. "He will shit himself."

 

Blaine grins. "Right?"

 

"But, total honesty here, on the scale of things I did not want to know? The fact that you take it up the ass was right there at the top."

 

"Oh – sorry, I just thought you knew. You know, that you could tell."

 

"Wait, how could I – seriously? I really don't spend much time thinking about what sexual positions you prefer. It's not like it matters," Cooper says.

 

It means more to Blaine than he'll ever admit to anyone.

 

"Hey, Coop? I'm really going to miss you while you're gone."

 

"I'll miss you too, Squirt. Can I call you in moments of weakness, when I'm craving something terrible like, I don't know, a cracker?"

 

"Of course."

 

* * *

 

They have Thanksgiving in the loft that fall. Burt and Carole fly in, needing a change of scenery, the first major holiday spent minus one son.

 

It's bright, loud and boisterous with so many people and even so, it feels hollow in the face of Finn's absence. Everyone ends up gorging themselves on pie, crossed communication lines resulting in not quite enough dinner and way too much dessert. Kurt can't help but think that Finn would _not_ have found that to be a problem, had he been with them.

 

He's not the only one missing a brother this year, though. He's watched Blaine, a mask of a smile plastered on his face, go out of his way the whole evening to be the perfect host in spite of the dinner crisis. But when Rachel hands him a slice of pumpkin pie and announces he should eat it for Cooper, he hands the plate to Kurt without a word and ducks out of the window onto the fire escape.

 

It reminds Kurt of the Thanksgiving not so long ago, back when they were still broken up and he was miserable and angry. This time, he'll be the one waiting with a hug.

 

When Blaine ducks back in, swiping at his eyes, Kurt catches him before anyone else can steal him away or give him another piece of pie.

 

"Are you alright?"

 

Blaine smiles a watery smile. "He won't tell me how much weight he's lost. He's not even eating turkey today." A beat. "I asked him to send me a selfie. And then I was _relieved_ when he wouldn't."

 

Kurt slips his arms around Blaine's waist, hooks his chin over Blaine's shoulder.

 

"He misses us," Blaine says into his hair. "He says this sounds like a 'pretty swanky shin-dig,' to use his words."

 

"I wish he could be here."

 

Blaine nods slowly.

 

"Next year," Kurt smiles, pulling back from the hug, still trying to keep Blaine's spirits up. "As close as you two have gotten since he started filming, I know he wouldn't miss it – and he'll be able to eat all the pie he wants." He glances over to the dessert table. "And considering how much pie we _have_ , we may still have some left over for him …"

 

He manages to pry a laugh from Blaine's throat with that, and kisses him on the cheek.

 

"He'll also be back by Christmas, he said, so there's that. I'm sorry," Blaine says, shaking his head. "I shouldn't be so preoccupied, not with your family –"

 

"We're not talking about that," Kurt says firmly, closing his eyes and swallowing against the lump in his throat. "I will _not_ be a blubbering mess on Thanksgiving, not when there's so much else to be thankful for."

 

Blaine kisses _him_ on the cheek this time, squeezes his hand. "We should play games," he says, looking past Kurt to gaze worriedly at Carole, who's staring blankly at her plate. "It'll be a nice distraction, and maybe get everybody through the night laughing, not crying. And I _have_ always wanted to play Cards Against Humanity with your dad. I think he'd be hilariously inappropriate."

 

"I swear it's like you make an _effort_ to put yourself in the most embarrassing situations," Kurt says, shaking his head, but he's also beaming, grateful in ways he doesn’t know how to express.

 

* * *

 

"Coop?"

 

"I have an In 'N Out Combo sitting right in front of me. Tell me I shouldn't eat it."

 

"It'll probably just make you miserably sick, at this point," Blaine says, sitting up in bed, quietly slipping from the covers so he doesn't wake Kurt.

 

Cooper laughs weakly. "You're gonna have to do better than that."

 

Blaine grabs a blanket from the basket by the couch, wraps it around him, creaks open the window to the fire escape. It's bitterly cold outside, and even with all the lights, the city feels terribly lonely, the wind whipping around him. He pauses for a moment, wonders if he shouldn't just tell Cooper to eat the damn burger.

 

Finally, "Think about Felix. Think about Ned."

 

"Keep going."

 

"Think about how many people need to hear their story, how much more of an impact it will make if you look like you're –" He can't finish.

 

"Dying." Cooper does it for him. He sighs. "It just smells so good."

 

"So get it out from under your nose. Isn't there a homeless person on the street somewhere you could give it to?"

 

"I tried that already. Right after I bought it. The lady wouldn't take it, said I looked like I needed it more than she did."

 

It makes Blaine cringe. Cooper still won't tell him how much weight he's lost, but obviously it's a lot.

 

"A neighbor, then. Everybody loves In 'N Out …"

 

"I know," Cooper says miserably. "So do I."

 

"Coop? Get rid of the burger," Blaine says, and feels like a terrible person for it. A taxi honks its horn down on the street below him, and in the vast expanse of night, his brother three thousand miles away and starving, he feels so _small_.

 

"Okay," Cooper sighs. "Thanks, Blaine."

 

* * *

 

"Blaine?" Kurt's browsing through a Vogue magazine, and all Blaine's clanging and banging around the kitchen is distracting. "What's going on in there?"

 

Blaine slams a cabinet door shut.

 

"Blaine?" Kurt repeats, folding the magazine closed.

 

He's standing at the sink facing the window, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He mumbles something Kurt can't quite make out.

 

"What was that?"

 

"He won't let me pick him up from the airport."

 

Kurt sighs. "Hey," he says once he's off the couch and in the kitchen. He reaches out to touch Blaine's shoulder and his hand is immediately shrugged off. "Blaine –"

 

"I just – I'm _worried_ for him, Kurt, he sounds like a twig about to snap in two on the phone. And he's still got another five days of this cleanse shit, or whatever he's doing."

 

"I know," Kurt says, mostly because he doesn't know what else to say. He'd never have thought Blaine would be this upset over a brother he barely used to talk to.

 

When Blaine finally turns, there are tears in his eyes. "I don't know how to do this," he says. "Just when I was finally getting used to the idea of having family in the vague sense of the word rather than – well, what you have – Coop came along and wanted to _bond_ over this and now all I can do is worry that he'll collapse when he's three thousand miles away from me."

 

All Kurt knows to do is hug him, so he does. "He's going to be okay," he murmurs, hoping that it's true.

 

* * *

 

"Cooper."

 

"Blaine – shit, I thought you were Mark, he was supposed to come by –"

 

" _Cooper_." It's all Blaine can do to keep the tears out of his voice. He's come by Cooper's apartment, unannounced, because since he's been home, his big brother has put a ban on seeing him until he's gained some weight back. He understands why, now – Cooper looks like he's just been released from a concentration camp.

 

"I know, I know – well, you've seen it now, you might as well come in."

 

They settle on Cooper's couch, Blaine's hands shaking with the shock of it and Cooper's hands shaking presumably from hunger.

 

"So, the good news – I get to eat again. We're done with all the scenes I'm not wearing clothes for."

 

"And what's the bad news? It doesn't matter, because you've starved yourself until you have permanent organ damage? I did my research back when we found out my friend Marley has an eating disorder, Coop," Blaine says evenly.

 

Cooper laughs drily. "They gave me a cracker today, in celebration of this shoot we did. I have this shower scene – anyway. I puked it right back up."

 

Blaine glares at him.

 

"Do you understand now why I didn't want you to see me like this?"

 

"What I'd _like_ to understand," Blaine says, avoiding Cooper's question, "is how it's fair that you feel like you can just march in and out of my life with no warning." His blood is boiling underneath his skin.

 

Cooper's brow furrows, and Blaine's stomach turns at the shadows in his cheeks. "When, precisely, have I marched out of your life?"

 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe when you refused to see me, when you went off to California without giving me some advance warning, when you wouldn’t let me pick you up at the airport –"

 

"I didn’t want to scare you, Squirt," Cooper says, looking down. "I never meant to walk out of your life – you're one of the main reasons I'm even _doing_ this. You know that."

 

"And that's what I don't understand!" Blaine says, the words exploding from his mouth like small bullets. "Why you feel the need to _martyr_ yourself for me, why you've taken up my fairly normal life as your _cause_! I never _asked_ you to starve yourself –"

 

"Blaine," Cooper tries, but Blaine's having none of it.

 

"You know, it's one thing to come to terms with having parents who really don't want anything to do with the person you're becoming, but I swear to god, if you've just been _pretending_ to care this whole time for some gain on your part –"

 

" _Blaine_. That’s not fair – or _true_ – and you know it."

 

"I need to get out of here," Blaine mutters, stomping to the door, feeling like a petulant child. "I'll see you later." He slams it as he leaves. It doesn't feel nearly as gratifying as he wants it to.

 

* * *

 

He meets Mark Ruffalo on the sidewalk outside Cooper's apartment, two green smoothies in his hands.

 

"Uh oh …" Mark says, giving Blaine a half-smile, and Blaine's heart flutters a little in his chest. What a weird day… "How'd _that_ go?"

 

"Oh, _fantastic_! My brother looks like death personified – I'm doing _great_ ," Blaine says, plastering on a wide, sarcastic grin. His arms fold over his chest.

 

"O- _kay_ , so about as well as I thought… Look, I get it. I have to work with the guy; it's scary. But never fear, I've brought him calories," he says, holding up one of the smoothies. "He's not doing so well with solids yet, but this is kind of like what they were giving him at the spa place, just … heartier."

 

A green smoothie doesn't look any kind of hearty to Blaine's cronut-loving self, but surely it's better than nothing …

 

He sighs, deflates. "I yelled at him."

 

"For what?"

 

"Honestly, I'm pissed," Blaine admits. "I feel like he's just been pushing me away from him or lying to me or something. But I couldn't say that, so I called him a martyr. Which kind of makes me an ass – I mean, I believe in what he's doing so much, the film is _so_ important –"

 

Mark gives him a full smile this time. "You're worried."

 

Blaine nods.

 

"He loves you, you know that? Talks about his awesome kid brother on set all the time."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yep," Mark says. "Look, I'm not telling you to go back up and apologize. I'm sure seeing him was a shock, and I'm don't know that keeping everything from you was the best idea, but he was trying to protect you."

 

Blaine nods again. He knows it's true, but he also needs some time to stew before he makes amends. He looks at the ground.

 

"Tell him I'm not mad at him?"

 

"I can do that," Mark says. "As long as you tell him yourself before too long."

 

"Deal," Blaine says, managing a small smile. They part ways, Blaine feeling a little lighter knowing that there's someone watching out for Cooper, and he calls Kurt while he walks.

 

"Life is so weird, sometimes," he says when Kurt picks up the phone.

 

* * *

 

" _Here we come a-caroling among the leaves so green_ ," Blaine sings, Kurt harmonizing with him, when Cooper opens the door, " _here we come a-wandering so fair to be seen –_ "

 

Cooper grins. "Merry Christmas to you, too!"

 

Blaine reaches up to hug him, feels shoulder blades and spine underneath his sweater. "I'm sorry again for last week," he whispers, squeezing tight, trusting that Cooper's not going to break.

 

"It's okay," Cooper says, squeezing back with bony arms. "It was partly my fault. But you _have_ always been a bit of a drama queen. Oh look – presents!" he cries as Blaine flips him the bird.

 

Kurt laughs, walks past them with an armful of gifts. "Aw, look at your cute little tree. It's skinny, just like you are."

 

Blaine peeks around Cooper to see a Charlie Brown Christmas tree set up on the coffee table. He smiles as Cooper nods proudly.

 

"I'm glad that _somebody_ appreciates the joke. You're the first person who's noticed – everybody else just thinks I should be able to afford something nicer." He turns to Blaine, poking him in the shoulder. "You keep him, he's a smart one."

 

"Nobody knows it better than me," Blaine says, finally closing the door behind himself and his brother.

 

* * *

 

There's a knock on the door halfway through the gift-opening. Blaine answers it, leaving Cooper on the couch – he's still weak, shaky at times, and Blaine's happy to take on the energy expenditure. When the door opens, he blinks in the face of Mark Ruffalo, his wife and his three children.

 

"Hey Blaine! We thought we'd bring your brother some Christmas cheer – that okay? We don't want to barge in on your party."

 

"Not barging!" Kurt calls from where he and Cooper are sitting, his voice a little high and breathy. "Come in!"

 

They're surprised to find that the family has brought gifts not only for Cooper, but for Blaine and Kurt as well, and it takes Kurt a good ten minutes to pull his jaw off the floor after opening a pair of Alexander McQueen cufflinks. "But … how did you _know_?" he stutters.

 

Sunrise, Mark's wife, just smiles. "We have our ways," she says. "I'm glad you like them."

 

They spend the afternoon playing with the kids, Cooper drifting in and out of sleep on the couch. It's surreal, that _this_ is what Cooper's life is now, mingling with celebrities and their families on Christmas Day, and that he wants Blaine to be a part of it.

 

Before dinner, Mark and his family say their goodbyes, begging off to a houseful of new toys that the kids can't wait to dig their hands into. Kurt stoops to hug their youngest, quietly thanking her for hanging out with them when she could've been enjoying all her new baubles instead, and he's rewarded a kiss on the cheek. It hits Blaine hard in the chest, seeing so clearly what could eventually be their future.

 

When Mark hugs Cooper goodbye, Blaine can't help but grin – their fondness for each other is palpable, and he thinks they'll have amazing onscreen chemistry. Sunrise must think so too, because she grins and says, "Okay, lovebirds, the kids are waiting. Save it for the set."

 

They laugh, and Mark adds a pointed, "Keep drinking your smoothies, and make sure to add that protein powder," and then they're out the door.

 

"Well," Kurt breathes when they're gone.

 

"Well?" Blaine says after a long pause.

 

"I think that's how we should spend Christmas every year," he finally says, and sits back down on the couch to admire his cufflinks again.

 

* * *

 

"Do you remember that nosy neighbor, Mrs. Rawley?" Cooper asks. "The one who lives across the street and down one house?"

 

They've met for lunch at Blaine's favorite pizza joint. Cooper's filming finished the week before, and now that his stomach is accustomed to solid food again, he's making up for lost time.

 

Blaine snickers. "The one whose yard we flamingoed that one time? God, I got in so much trouble …"

 

"That's the one," Cooper grins.

 

"What about her?"

 

"Well, thanks to her, Mom knows I'm doing the film. I got a phone call the other day – reminded me of the Harry Potter movies, where Ron gets that Screamer."

 

Blaine groans. "What'd she say?"

 

"Oh, just a bunch of shit, basically," Cooper says, taking a bite of pizza and clearly avoiding the topic. Blaine's not going to complain. "I'm so glad I got to spend Christmas with you this year. We should make that a tradition – New York Christmas."

 

"Better than Ohio Christmas, what with Mark and the fact that Kurt and I have been, like, _decidedly_ uninvited to Anderson holiday functions for the past three years …"

 

"How'd that happen, anyway? They never told me. It's one of those Things That Shall Not Be Mentioned."

 

"It was Kurt's senior year. There was champagne," Blaine says, turning red. "We sort of – um – we were messing around in the laundry room. The dryer wasn't apparently as loud as we thought. Dad walked in."

 

" _Shit_ ," Cooper says, grinning around his pizza. "God, I'd have killed to see his face."

 

"Yeah, it wasn't pretty." Blaine smiles a little. "And it was worse, because _technically_ we weren't supposed to be drinking the champagne in the first place …"

 

Cooper shakes his head, his skin stretching against his still-sallow face as he smiles. Blaine worries for a moment that he'll never look the same again, tries to push the thought from his mind.

 

"I'm sorry they can't see how amazing the two of you are," he says.

 

Blaine shrugs. "I've come to terms, mostly."

 

"It pisses me off that you have to, though."

 

"Coop? I appreciate the support and everything, really, but … can we talk about something else?"

 

* * *

 

Weeks pass, the film is in post-production, and every time Blaine sees Cooper, he expects him to reveal that he's got a flight to go back home. He never does.

 

Eventually, Blaine gets up the courage to ask.

 

"Oh," Cooper says thoughtfully. "I thought I'd told you – I'm thinking of staying in New York for a while. Why not, right? I've got decent connections, and you're here. It's kind of nice, having family around."

 

Blaine blinks at him. "But – your friends in LA –"

 

"I wasn't actually all that close with anybody out there. I like the vibe here better, anyway – maybe it'll give me inspiration for my next role!" Cooper grins. "Looks like you're stuck with me for a while, at least, Squirt."

 

He turns, fiddles with a sheet of paper of Kurt's lying on the desk beside him so Cooper can't see how completely overcome he is.

 

* * *

 

"We got an invite to the premiere," Kurt says when Blaine gets home from class, holding up a large manila envelope. "VIP passes and everything."

 

"Huh," Blaine says, taking the package from Kurt.

 

"Huh? We get invited to a red carpet event and all you can say is _huh_?"

 

"It's just – I don't know if I want to go to the premiere."

 

"Wait. _What_?"

 

Blaine looks at him, entirely serious. "I don't know if I want to ugly cry in front of hundreds of famous people."

 

"Oh, _Blaine_." Kurt moves to hug him and Blaine lets him, tucks his face into the curve of his neck. "Forget it. We'll stay home."

 

Blaine sighs after they part. "You really want to go, don't you? You're just being gracious."

 

"I –" Kurt stops, biting on the side of his lip.

 

"It's okay. You can say yes."

 

"I just – it's a _red carpet_ , Blaine – but of course how you feel is more important, if you really don't want to go –"

 

"Maybe I can talk to Cooper? I don't know, maybe we can get some sort of advanced viewing or something, so I'm at least prepared? I mean, obviously he wants us there, too, or he wouldn't have told them to send this."

 

Kurt beams. "I knew I loved you for a reason."

 

Blaine's eyebrows raise, amused. "It better be more reason than this."

 

"Oh," he says, a sly look creeping into his eyes as he moves to kiss Blaine's lips, "it _is_."

 

* * *

 

Kurt wants to make a party of it, and Blaine's initially so excited that he says yes without thinking. With the condition that they keep quiet about it or face certain death and lawsuit, Kurt invites Elliot and Dani and Artie and Sam and Mercedes and basically everyone else they know, and the only thing Blaine's worried about is that Santana might actually rip Rachel's head off in the middle of the loft.

 

Now, a pile of wet tissues in front of him, embarrassed to be _actually sobbing_ into his fiancé's wool sweater, he's reconsidering.

 

As if the play, the movie, the whole idea isn't bad enough, it's his brother on that screen. He can't manage to separate them like he can Cooper's recurring TV role, that's his _brother_ with the terrible dreaded disease, that's his _brother_ with the death sentence, his brother humiliated on a toilet and emaciated in a shower stall.

 

It comforts him to know, though, that he's not the only one crying – Kurt's clutching at his sweater as well, Elliot's sitting still as a statue in his chair, hasn't moved once since the film began, and out of the corner of his eye, he keeps seeing Sam swipe his hand over his face.

 

And as embarrassed as he is, he's so grateful to be watching this among friends.

 

* * *

 

They fuck that night with tears running down both their faces, silent and intense. For the first time, Blaine manages to come without ever being touched, and the release of his orgasm brings along with it the release of another onslaught of sobs.

 

Kurt kisses him quiet, still hard inside him. He goes to move, but it's too much for Blaine's oversensitive body, so he pulls off, peels off the condom and takes Kurt into his mouth.

 

After, they lie naked in bed, neither of them able to sleep.

 

"I can't quite wrap my head around how I can be so angry and so grateful at the same time," Kurt finally murmurs.

 

"Mmm," Blaine hums, still too wrung-out to have a conversation about it.

 

Kurt turns to him. "You aren't ready to talk about it, are you?"

 

"Still processing. Maybe in the morning?"

 

"Okay." A pause. "Hey. I love you."

 

Blaine smiles. "I love you, too." It's the truest truth he's ever known, and what he'll always cling to when nothing else makes sense.

 

* * *

 

Blaine's still shaken when they wake the next morning; Kurt can tell by the stiffness in his stride as he walks to the kitchen.

 

"I don’t know if I'll ever be able to talk about it, honestly," he says, shaking his head at Kurt, who's a bit perplexed and desperately needs to word vomit about the whole thing.

 

"O-kay," Kurt says slowly, grabbing the cereal. "Um – do you mind if I do, though? To someone else?"

 

Blaine raises his eyebrows. "To Elliot, I'm presuming?"

 

"Well, that's who I was initially thinking, but if you have a problem –"

 

"Go," Blaine says, and it's not quite cold, but it's not warm, either. "Just promise me you won't kiss him in a fit of emotion or something …"

 

"Blaine." Kurt turns, cups Blaine's face between both his hands. "You have to stop worrying about Elliot. The only boy I want to kiss is you." He does so, just for good measure, and feels Blaine kind of melt into him.

 

"I'm sorry," Blaine sighs when it's done. "I just –" He waves his hands in the air erratically, and Kurt understands.

 

"I can hang out here for a while to make sure you don't implode," he offers.

 

"That would be _great_ ," Blaine says, relieved, and Kurt pours him a bowl of cereal.

 

* * *

 

The red carpet is nothing like they expect. No one gives them a second glance – they're not allowed to walk with Cooper because of press responsibilities, so they trail a good distance behind, awed and overwhelmed – honestly, with the amount of flashes, it's like a strobe light and a lightning storm procreated – and waffle between wanting to melt into the woodwork and wanting to be noticed.

 

"This is insane," Kurt hisses in Blaine's ear.

 

"Better get used to it, I guess. It's what we want," Blaine whispers back, just before a journalist yells at them to get out of a picture. They scurry out of the way.

 

"…Maybe," Kurt sighs, nearly running into one of the poles holding the tent up as they're shoved around. "Maybe not so much this part."

 

"Is it _always_ this way?" Blaine asks, frowning.

 

It's at that moment that Julia Roberts approaches them, a wide smile on her face, and they're both too spellbound at the fact that she recognizes Blaine to remember to discuss it further later.

 

* * *

 

Blaine manages to keep the ugly-crying at bay during the film, though the tears are practically a constant stream down his face, a very, very quiet waterfall, and thank goodness Kurt has come prepared with tissues.

 

When it's over, they make a beeline for the restrooms, but never actually manage to make it, because Cooper's been talking them up on the red carpet to everyone he sees and suddenly they're getting attention in droves.

 

Kurt's in a panic; both their faces are splotchy disasters, and Kurt looks rather like Rudolph with his bright red nose. "Cucumbers, Blaine!" he whispers frantically after Jim Parsons has walked away. "We need cucumbers!"

 

Blaine smiles at him, kisses his temple. "I don't think we're going to find any cucumbers around here, sweetheart."

 

The endearment shocks Kurt out of whatever alarm he may have been feeling just like it's supposed to – they never call each other by anything but their names – and Blaine leans in further. "Look," he says, pointing to where Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka are standing. "They look just as splotchy as we do."

 

It appeases Kurt enough, and he smiles at Blaine just as Cooper walks up and engulfs them both in an enormous hug.

 

* * *

 

"So what did you think? First red carpet event, getting to schmooze with all the big names?" Cooper asks over fondue. He's apartment hunting, has dragged Blaine along for the ride, naming him the "Official Style-Master," whatever that means.

 

"Honestly? It kind of sucked."

 

Cooper grins. "I _know_. Everybody's least favorite part of being an actor. Welcome to show-biz, baby brother."

 

Blaine shrugs. "I guess. You seem to be doing pretty well. The Today Show, Jimmy Kimmell, Jimmy Fallon – America loves you."

 

"Not all of America. You should see my hate mail."

 

"I'd rather not."

 

"Yeah, well, all that aside – what did you think? You haven't really said much about the film. Did you hate it?"

 

"No, not at all!" Blaine promises, then shrugs uncomfortably. "It's just, I'm on-edge, I guess. I've felt squirmy ever since I saw it for the first time. I can't get it out of my head, and it's unsettling in a way that nothing I've ever watched has been before …"

 

"Is it because it was me?" Cooper asks. "I'm not asking that to be vain, really – it's hard for _me_ to watch. God, the _nightmares_ I had – I woke up half the days I was shooting convinced that I was HIV positive."

 

"I think it's hard to separate?" Blaine says, looking determinedly at a piece of bread. "Like – it wasn't just onscreen, you were that skinny in real life. You could barely get up to answer the door."

 

"And now I'm running again," Cooper tells him gently. "And eating _fondue_ of all things. I'm fine, Squirt."

 

"I guess," Blaine sighs, poking the bread with his skewer. "I mean, you were fantastic, the whole thing was fantastic, but I guess it just felt a little _too_ real?"

 

"That's because I'm _too_ good. Chin up. I'm _fine_."

 

* * *

 

Moving day arrives, and Blaine's standing in the cold New York morning feeling awkward. He'd offered his and Kurt's help for carrying furniture and boxes, but Cooper had just laughed and brushed him off.

 

Now they're standing on the sidewalk, watching the men Cooper had paid to lug all of his possessions up four flights of stairs. Blaine thinks back to all the hours he and Kurt have spent moving themselves and their friends, grunting and groaning and then laughing over pizza. They'd fantasized about hiring movers every time, and while he's grateful for a back that isn't aching, something feels weird about it, watching other people do their work for them while he sips on a mug of coffee.

 

"How's life in Kurt-land lately?" Cooper asks, breaking the silence between them, his breath a puff of white mist in the bitter air.

 

"Good," Blaine says, smiling. "He's in a study group this morning. Wedding planning is slow, but mainly because everything here is so _expensive_. We've been talking about maybe just doing the legal thing here, and going home to Ohio for a ceremony, but I don't know …"

 

"Mmm, that might be smart," Cooper muses. "But you know, if you need a hand with money stuff …"

 

"I am not asking you for that," Blaine says. "We want to do this ourselves." He pauses. "But … I mean, I can ask Kurt about it, it's been – it's just so _expensive_ –"

 

"Say the word," Cooper says, "and I'm your man." He lightly punches Blaine on the shoulder, then chuckles, shakes his head. "So _weird_ , talking with you about your wedding, god. Seriously, when _did_ you grow up on me?"

 

Blaine smiles, tips his head to one side, shrugs.

 

"I'm glad I'm here, Squirt. Close to you. I always hoped we'd be friends when you got older."

 

His statement comes as a surprise. "Really?"

 

"Yeah. Hard to be friends with your kid brother when you're a teenager, but … I don't know, I always held out hope that you'd end up okay. Turns out you kind of went above and beyond my expectations."

 

Blaine can only blink up at him, grateful and awed.

 

* * *

 

"Blaine – actually, why don't we just swap tasks; _you_ can finish sautéing the onions, and _I'll_ arrange the candles," Kurt says, smiling with a wooden spoon in his hand, but Blaine can hear the tension in his voice.

 

"Kurt, I think I'm perfectly capable of –"

 

"You _guys_ , what do I _wear_?" Rachel cries, interrupting as her head pokes around her privacy curtain.

 

"Oh my god," Sam says, craning his head from his spot on the couch, "all of a sudden, this N-64 seems so dumb …"

 

"Okay," Blaine says, " _stop it_. All of you. It's just Cooper. My brother. Remember?"

 

"Just Cooper? _Just_ Cooper, Blaine?" Rachel says, whipping her curtain open, stalking out in an unzipped pair of jeans and bright pink bra. Sam whips his head around so hard Blaine can feel a breeze.

 

"Just so you know, Rach, I'm totally not looking. Totally. Not looking," he says, obviously watching her reflection in the dark tv screen.

 

" _He's never been just Cooper_!" Rachel screeches, ignoring Sam completely.

 

"Okay," Blaine tries again, "it's fine. He's just –"

 

"Sorry I'm early!" Cooper says, sliding the door open, a bottle of wine in hand, his eyes growing wide as they land on Rachel. "Oh, uh – I'm _really_ early?"

 

She shrieks again, runs pell-mell back to her bed, flings the curtain closed.

 

"If it makes you feel any better," he calls, "you're _seriously_ not the first girl I've ever seen in a bra …"

 

Blaine shakes his head. "So, Cooper … I think you know everybody here already …"

 

* * *

 

In spite of the evening's awkward start, Blaine's in heaven. This is the family he's always dreamed of having, people he loves around a table eating together. His fiancée. His brother. His friends. It doesn't even hurt that his parents aren't here, and more than likely won't ever be.

 

"I'd like to make a toast," he says suddenly, raising his glass of wine and interrupting a rather passionate monologue from Rachel.

 

Cooper grins and winks at him as the other four glasses rise into the air.

 

"To family. To shared successes, to friends, to love –" Blaine steals a glance at Kurt, who takes his free hand, "– and to Ned, and Felix, and progress. It's been a hell of a couple months, and I'm just …" A pause. "My life feels full because of all of you. And I just want to say thank you."

 

"I think we can all raise a glass to that," Kurt says softly, the quiet smile Blaine loves so much gracing his face.

 

A quick squeeze to his hand, and a jubilant cry of, " _Cheers!"_ rings out in a chorus of five voices.

 

Blaine downs the wine, closes his eyes. The warmth in the room drips thick like honey down his body, and he smiles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
